For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
No wind. No thunder. No breath from the gods who stood frozen in disbelief.
Hera's final light faded into the void, leaving nothing — no trace, no echo, not even dust.
Zeus' hand trembled in the air where her presence once was. His divine eyes widened, unblinking, fixed on the spot where she had vanished.
A hollow sound left his throat — not quite a word, not quite a scream — just emptiness.
Then it came.
A sound like a storm tearing through heaven itself.
Zeus roared — a cry that split the fabric of Olympus. The sky bled lightning. His golden aura flared until the air burned, his body glowing like the wrath of creation itself.
"YOU!" His voice was thunder incarnate. "YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!"
The clouds exploded. Lightning as bright as suns rained down in pillars that scorched the ground around the King of Erasure.
Cronus stepped forward, horror on his face. "ZEUS—NO! DON'T—"
But the storm god was already gone, hurling himself through the air like a spear of vengeance. His hand clasped the Master Bolt, the divine lightning of Olympus, burning white and gold, sparking with the fury of ten millennia.
The King of Erasure turned his head slowly, almost curious.
Zeus struck.
The bolt collided with the King's body and detonated with the power of a collapsing star. The battlefield disappeared in a sea of light and thunder.
For a moment, it seemed as though the world itself had been purged clean.
Then the light faded — and the King of Erasure stood there.
Unharmed.
He smiled — thin, cruel, bored.
"You gods mistake fury for strength."
He raised his hand, and the ground beneath Zeus twisted into black mist.
Cronus shouted, summoning his sickle. "Everyone—now! Protect Olympus!"
The titans moved first. Hyperion's flames ignited the horizon, creating walls of solar fire that clashed with the encroaching void. Oceanus surged forward, raising waves the size of mountains, trying to drown the erasure field in divine pressure.
The Olympians followed suit. Poseidon's trident cracked open the sea of clouds, summoning storms to shield Zeus. Athena and Ares charged side by side — strategy and fury united for once — as divine soldiers of every realm converged.
The King of Erasure was surrounded, encased in a dome of every divine force known to existence.
Zeus roared again, swinging his bolt, his voice shaking the heavens.
"FOR OLYMPUS!"
He unleashed his full power — storms within storms — lightning so bright it carved holes in space.
Cronus joined him, his sickle glowing with ancient light, slicing through the fabric of the battlefield itself.
Every blow shook reality, echoing through the cosmos.
But the King of Erasure didn't move.
Every attack that struck him, every blade, every bolt — vanished. The energy didn't explode, it simply ceased.
"You fight with creation," he said, his tone cold. "But I am what remains after creation dies."
He stepped forward, through the storm, through the flame, through the chaos itself — untouched.
Zeus' fury grew desperate. He struck again, lightning splitting mountains, thunder deafening even gods. "WHY WON'T YOU FALL!"
Cronus caught Zeus' arm, pulling him back. "Zeus! Listen to me—rage won't—"
"I SAID LET ME GO!"
He ripped free, tears of light streaking down his face.
"This isn't about Olympus anymore… this is about her."
He launched upward, divine energy spiraling around him. The others followed — titans, gods, all burning their full strength — trying to hold the line.
The King raised his hand. Reality rippled outward like water. The ground beneath the divine armies disintegrated. Dozens of celestial soldiers fell screaming into the void as the earth itself was erased from under them.
Still, they charged.
Poseidon hurled his trident again and again, each strike a tidal quake.
Ares' sword glowed red, clashing with the King's energy field.
Athena invoked ancient war seals, her eyes glowing with divine calculation.
For a heartbeat, the King of Erasure was forced back — half a step, no more, but enough to make the gods feel a flicker of hope.
Zeus seized it.
He raised his bolt high, summoning every storm in existence. The air thickened, lightning snaking through the sky like divine serpents.
"THIS ENDS NOW!"
He hurled the bolt. It exploded against the King, light swallowing everything — heaven, earth, even the titans' cries — in one blinding storm.
When the smoke cleared…
The King of Erasure still stood. His body glowed faintly, absorbing the remnants of divine lightning.
And then — he looked up, right at Zeus.
"It was beautiful," the King said softly. "The way she screamed your name."
Zeus froze. His mind shattered under the words.
Rage turned to despair, despair to madness.
Cronus shouted, "ZEUS—DON'T!" but it was too late. Zeus lunged again, every ounce of divinity in his body burning — the full storm unleashed, his aura tearing the fabric of Olympus apart.
Titans and gods shouted in unison, following their king, their roars merging into one cataclysmic war cry.
The heavens cracked.
The ground split.
The cosmos itself trembled.
The War of Heavens had truly begun.